


won't you take me with you

by funeralstrut



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funeralstrut/pseuds/funeralstrut
Summary: It takes all of him to hold on to Lucifer's shining form—but Sandalphon always finds himself reaching out, no matter how much that pure light burns him.(a lucisan soul eater au.)
Relationships: Lucifer/Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy)
Kudos: 34





	won't you take me with you

**Author's Note:**

> you don't need to know soul eater going into this - the main idea I took from there was that certain people are born with the ability to transform into Weapons, and they are wielded by other people (Meisters). there!
> 
> this is otherwise just wildly AU for gbf as well. look i just wanted to play with lucisan again that's literally it

_Sandalphon. You can do it._

Sandalphon angrily rubbed the tears of frustration off of his face. “I don’t—I can’t, what are you _saying_ —“

The gleaming blade where Lucifer’s voice was echoing from pulsed with a pure light, even as it sat amongst the filth on the street.

The monster crept ever closer, blood dripping from its jaws.

“I don’t even understand what just happened! You turned into a—a sword? And you want me to—to _swing_ you? At _that?”_

_I trust you, Sandalphon. Take me in your hand._

“If I break you,” Sandalphon said through gritted teeth, even as he reached for Lucifer, “I’ll reforge you myself. I’ll bring you back. And then I’ll yell about how _stupid_ you were to trust me.”

_I’ve always been a fool._

“You can’t just _say_ that!”

They stood together as one, with Sandalphon taking a ready stance against the behemoth charging at them. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he could see a reflection of Lucifer smiling at him from the surface of the blade.

He huffed. “Let’s do this…”

_…together._

* * *

Adjusting to a life of battle proved difficult.

The man with Lucifer’s face looked harshly down at him. _”This_ is who you chose as your Meister?”

Sandalphon’s beaten body lay sprawled across the floor of the training hall. Beside him, Lucifer reverted back to human form. “You’re being too harsh,” he said, placatingly. “He’s inexperienced, yes, but—“

“But nothing,” Lucilius said scathingly. “Did you forget? You’re here to fight. Not to offer yourself up to some charity case from the street who has nowhere to go.”

“And who couldn’t even last five minutes,” added Belial, as he turned back from his scythe form.

In unison, they turned to go.

“…Not yet.”

Lucilius paused in his tracks.

Sandalphon grasped Lucifer’s hand. “One more time.”

“And what do you think you can do, in that condition?”

His legs were still shaking. His body screamed as he dragged himself to his feet. Every cut continued to bleed; every bruise was still raw. But there was no way Sandalphon could let Lucifer down at this point. “Try me,” he snarled.

Lucilius turned back around and gave him a long look, but his cold gaze was nothing in the face of Lucifer’s warmth by his side.

Belial’s eyes lit up. “Well, Cilius. Why not? At the very least, I’ll get to have your hands on my pole once more.”

* * *

The thing about determination was that it could only take him so far.

_Sandalphon. You’re being reckless!_

He didn’t respond. He only charged forward.

_Sandalphon!_

You don’t understand, Sandalphon thought to himself. Lucifer’s power was immense. His light burned everything in its path. All Sandalphon could do to keep up with that overwhelming power was channel it in the direction of their enemies. It was all he had _ever_ been able to do.

If he couldn’t manage even that…

Not for the first time, Lucilius’ words echoed in his head: _He’s wrong to believe in you. But I’ll let him make this mistake, because he’ll survive it. Although I can’t say the same for you._

Tell me something I don’t know, he thought bitterly.

When finally the waves of monsters subsided, Sandalphon nearly collapsed. He leaned on Lucifer’s blade form inelegantly.

A lone straggler rushed at him.

_Shit. I’m too tired to move…_

Sandalphon threw Lucifer to the side with the last of his strength, ignoring the sudden anguish that pierced through his head.

A burst of intense light took him by surprise. For a moment, he couldn’t see anything at all—but the final blow he feared never came, and Sandalphon cautiously reopened his eyes as the purifying light faded.

The monster had turned into ashes. But as he turned to where Lucifer’s blade lay, unusually lifeless, dread pooled in his stomach.

“Lucifer…?”

No answer came.

* * *

Lucifer’s blade had been silent for weeks now.

Lucilius had tried to kill him outright when they'd returned to base. Thick in the grip of shock, Sandalphon had hardly been able to process the venomous words thrown at him between the many lethal strikes. He could only clutch Lucifer uselessly. In fact, he would have died if not for the interference of Djeeta and Lyria, who held his would-be executioner at bay.

Even though he thoroughly deserved it.

No one could tell what was going on with Lucifer. The verdict of the doctors was that he wasn't dead exactly; he’d just used up much more energy than was safe. Possibly even part of his soul... all to protect someone as worthless as Sandalphon. Fatal wound or no, the end result was the same: Lucifer—everyone’s shining hope, the spearhead in the fight against the Otherworld—was lying dormant in a safe room, and might never recover. Meanwhile, here Sandalphon remained, without a purpose.

_Why? You could have found another wielder. The least I could have done was to fall in your place._

But what was done was done.

When Lyria and Djeeta came up to him one day, asking for a spar, Sandalphon couldn’t even comprehend the question. He wondered, for a second, if they were just mocking him.

“Oh, I’m not partnering with Lyria this time,” explained Djeeta casually, as she warmed up with a few practice swings of a blazing red sword. She would be fighting with Michael. But who would he be…?

He stared, nonplussed, as Lyria forcefully took his hand—and transformed.

Lyria was an unusual Weapon. Unlike other weapons who were born with one form more or less, Lyria had never had her own form. Instead, she was able to use the forms of other Weapons who’d agreed to lend her their power. Given that she was a sweet and straightforward girl who was incredibly difficult to say no to, she and Djeeta had ended up one of the most feared Weapon/Meister pairs out there, owing to their overwhelming strength and astounding versatility. It was difficult to keep up with an opponent who could transition effortlessly from the might of a sword to the range of a bow in the space of a second.

Knowing all of this didn’t reduce the shock of seeing Lucifer’s blade form in his hands.

Sandalphon nearly dropped Lyria outright—might have done so, if Djeeta hadn’t lunged at him that instant, killing intent as tangibly sharp as the corporeal blade headed for his neck.

Only battle-forged instincts allowed him to raise Lyria’s blade in time.

_Clang._

“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded.

There was no time for an answer.

Djeeta and Michael were relentless. The instant he parried one blow, two more would come in quick succession. He was quickly being pushed back.

Without consciously thinking about it, Sandalphon pulled at the Weapon-Meister bond for more power. Or at least, he _tried_ to. He’d never fought with Lyria before. He had never partnered with anyone other than Lucifer. It was as if he had reached out and grasped nothing but air.

The next blow knocked him flat on his ass.

 _Do you understand now?_ came Michael’s voice.

“…What?”

Even without a face, Sandalphon could see Michael’s exasperated expression. _The value of the bond you share with Lucifer,_ she said slowly, as if explaining to an idiot. _The strength it grants you both._

 _Sandalphon,_ said Lyria. _Why haven’t you gone to visit Lucifer yet?_

His face hardened. “That’s none of your business.”

_But—_

“Is that what this farce of a spar is about?”

“How does fighting with Lyria feel to you?” Djeeta asked, changing tacks.

Sandalphon looked at her dubiously.

“The form might be the same, but I can’t bring her to her full potential, and in turn she can’t give me as much strength.”

“So how was fighting with Lucifer different?”

His patience was growing thinner by the second. “We’ve fought so long together. Isn’t that obvious?”

 _You realise,_ Michael said, _that there are plenty of Meister-Weapon pairs that never experience that level of resonance, right? That it’s not something that happens ‘naturally’ with time?_

“Sandalphon,” said Djeeta. “Don’t you understand that it was an achievement on both your parts?”

Sandalphon looked down.

“In the end, I still held him back, didn’t I? He should have found someone else from the beginning.”

Djeeta looked like she was going to grab his collar and throttle him. But Lyria surprised everyone by transforming back and getting there first.

Her grip—though weak—was paralysing.

“The one he chose was _you!”_ Tears started to roll down Lyria’s cheeks. “Why are you ignoring that…? Why do you just keep putting yourself down? He _needs_ you! If there’s anyone here who has a chance of calling him back, it’s you!”

Silence fell on the room, punctuated only by Lyria’s sobs.

“Sandalphon,” said Djeeta gently. “You should go to him.”

* * *

Lucifer wasn’t sure what exactly had happened in that last battle. All he could remember was the desperation of his final attack (and the sting of fear right before that)—and then he woke up in this… dreamworld.

He walked alone for the longest time, just investigating. At first he thought that he’d been caught in an enemy trap; but when he’d tried approaching the inhabitants of this false town, they moved out of his reach, lost their features, and faded away into nothing more than shadows.

The phantoms didn’t disappear in a way that suggested they feared him, even when he’d transformed an arm and pointed his blade at them. No… if anything, they were deferential. Their disappearing forms bowed and distanced themselves as if he was a light too pure for them to exist under.

_It’s just like how things used to be._

Lucifer’s eyes cleared in sad realisation.

_…So this is my punishment._

When Sandalphon approached out of the mist, Lucifer was afraid to go to him. No matter how much he wanted to run—no matter how much he feared to see Sandalphon dissolve into nothing like the false townspeople, something kept him rooted to the spot.

Sandalphon walked steadily towards him. His mind seemed made up. They came face-to-face with each other, with nothing in the way.

“You know,” Sandalphon began. He fidgeted idly, as if he was shaping each word with his fingers before breathing life into them. “I thought that when I found you, I’d be asking why you chose me to wield you. Why you stayed my partner through everything.”

Lucifer hummed in response. “Do you no longer want to ask that, then?”

He watched Sandalphon—his partner, his anchor—look into the distance, deliberating.

“…No,” Sandalphon said eventually. “Lyria, well… she said that I’d been putting myself down. That as a result… I wasn’t able to believe it when you put your faith in me. Deep down, I kept believing that you were wrong.”

Unconsciously, he reached for Sandalphon’s hand, and squeezed it.

“Lyria’s a surprisingly perceptive girl,” agreed Lucifer.

“…Yeah. So then I was thinking to myself, well, when it comes down to it, why should I bother believing my own self-doubt over your faith?”

Sandalphon looked down, suddenly overcome with embarrassment.

“I don’t know if it makes sense to think of it that way, but… I want to learn to believe in me, too.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “Will you forgive me? For throwing you away?”

“You think too highly of me.” Lucifer smiled wryly. “No, I think I need to apologise too. You were an outsider to this war. It would not be exaggeration to say that until I met you, I knew nothing but duty, and battle. When I had your coffee—once I understood the value of leisure… I understood a little better what we were fighting to protect.”

Sandalphon flushed.

“But as your partner, I failed to notice that you were not adjusting well to this life. I didn’t see how hard you were pushing yourself until it was far too late.” Lucifer’s face grew serious.

They both went silent for a while.

“Let’s call it even,” said Sandalphon, finally. “…You’ve been asleep for quite a while. Shall we?”

He answered with a grasp of Sandalphon's hand, and then the world went bright—

* * *

A week later, Gran wondered, not for the first time, how he got roped in into Djeeta’s stalking adventure.

“It’s not stalking,” Djeeta countered in an aggressive whisper. “We’re just making sure Sandalphon’s treating Lucifer right.”

“Yeah, yeah!” agreed Lyria. “Lucifer only just got discharged by Nurse Gabriel, after all!”

“How much did Sergeant Ilsa pay you?”

“Enough. Now are you going to join us on this recon job or not?”

Gran sighed.

Well, he reflected, as he looked at how absorbed their subjects were in each other. At least this would be the easiest job the sergeant had ever sent them on.


End file.
